


That Place

by megamac1296



Category: Bleach
Genre: Crime, F/M, Hospitals, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 17:41:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18783016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megamac1296/pseuds/megamac1296
Summary: Grimmjow had a long history of hating hospitals, which only made it all the more confusing when he met the love of his life in one.





	That Place

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song of the same name by Joell Ortiz: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-18-4NoIwOY

Emergency rooms at night were pretty bleak at the best of times. If you were lucky, you might be attended to immediately by someone competent. However if you needed to be seen on a night where natural selection was feeling particularly zealous, not only were you likely to be waiting for a while, you were also probably going to witness some grotesque sight that would remain with you for a long time.

Being no stranger to the emergency room, or the hospital in general, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez was thankful that this happened to be one of those quieter nights, because he really wasn't sure how long he could sit straight with a knife in his gut.

He knew from experience that the searing stinging of keeping it in was far better than the risk of taking it out and bleeding all over the place. Though knowing his luck, someone would still find a way to trip on the few drops he was leaving on the smooth floor and blame him for it.

While he might have been an expert on this room and seen all manner of horrifying injuries or ailments over his many visits, Grimmjow had been doing well in staying out of trouble for the past few months. He had really taken the whole 'an apple a day...' phrase to heart, and tried his best to keep out of the place he hated so much. However, similar to someone hypothetically slipping on his blood, there were some things that were either unavoidable or out of his control.

In this city, gang violence was an unfortunate fact of life, and a lot of innocent bystanders often got pulled into the chaos and brutality. That led to the only two hospitals in the city always having an influx of patients to deal with. The staff were overworked and underpaid, and had to put up with some of the worst working conditions imaginable.

Grimmjow held no grudges towards doctors or nurses who had their bedside manner ground out of them by the ungrateful or vile people that their duty forced them to treat. He did however, hope that if one of them was going to work on him tonight, they could at least hold their contempt until they removed the knife.

Now that he was back inside a hospital, Grimmjow once again found himself musing on how these supposed places of healing were so utterly depressing. Then he realised that he'd already answered his own question, this wasn't a place of healing, this was just a dam trying to stem the tide of sickness and suffering, being held up by the hard work of virtuous and decent people.

Grimmjow growled as a jolt of pain shot through his nerves. The receptionist had told him in a rather disinterested tone that someone would be along to see him shortly. Despite being the one in immense agony, Grimmjow did feel sympathy towards her, as working any job where you become jaded at seeing someone with a knife sticking out of them, had to make for a miserable living.

"Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez?" A mellow voice called out.

He allowed himself a quiet chuckle, as almost every other time he had been here, he had given them a fake name. It was nice to hear someone address him by his proper title, it felt like it had value again.

He stood up, careful not to shift the knife deeper and turned towards the direction of the voice. Her hazel eyes caught him off guard, they were so innocent and full of life, out of place in this drab and sterile building. They glanced down and instantly lost their wholesome sheen as soon as they spied the handle of the blade poking out of his stomach.

She met his gaze, harsh judgement burning from her irises. Grimmjow instantly felt guilty, like he was solely responsible for immediately corrupting those beautiful and vibrant eyes.

"This way please." She said in a clipped tone.

He wordlessly followed her as she guided him towards an empty emergency room and helped him sit down on the operating table. She said nothing, but tutted as she rummaged around in presses and drawers. Grimmjow watched her bend over to grab something and admired her body; even in her baggy scrubs there was no mistaking her curves.

The silence between them was growing uncomfortable, however Grimmjow didn't want to be the one to speak first, lest he accidentally irritate or provoke her.

"So how did you get that knife in you?" She finally asked coldly.

"I got stabbed." He said plainly.

"Of course." She laughed bitterly. "Another stabbing! I wonder do you guys ever get sick of killing each other, or worse, normal, everyday people." She said angrily. She pulled on a pair of latex, surgical gloves and picked up her medical kit.

"You're making a lot of assumptions about who I am, lady." He said evenly.

"Am I wrong, Mr. Jaegerjaquez? I've seen it all before, the air of violence surrounds you like a bad stench."

"I've never harmed anybody that didn't deserve it."

"Ah, so it's only when they're like you that they're fair game?" She asked glibly.

He looked away in what could have been shame. In a weird way, her disapproval and contempt burned him worse than the stabbing. Her instant character judgement let him know exactly what kind of vibe he gave off to complete strangers. It was no good having value to your name if the person attached to it didn't live up to that value.

"I'm sorry." He said flatly, droplets of blood continuing to fall onto his hands.

"No, I'm sorry, that was unprofessional of me." She sighed.

"Don't be, you weren't wrong." He muttered.

The nurse briefly inspected the area before telling him to lie down on his back. Composing herself, she reached into her kit and pulled out a pair of scissors. She snipped away at the clothing covering the wound and got a closer look at his injury.

"You're in luck, it looks like the knife missed any major arteries." She eventually said. "I must say, you're taking having a knife in your gut rather well, you haven't even gone into shock."

"Don't let my brave front fool you, I think I'm about to pass out here, it feels like I've got a hole in my stomach. The last time this happened, they told me I should've kept it in."

"I see." She said warily. "We normally have a team when we handle things like this, but we're incredibly short-staffed tonight." She murmured.

"Ah, I trust ya." He chuckled weakly.

"Glad to hear it, because I'm going to need your trust for the next few steps. I'm going to take the knife out, stop your bleeding, clean the wound, then dress the area around it."

"Sounds like a barrel of laughs."

"That's the spirit. So, you want to tell me how this happened?" She asked, clutching the handle.

He knew he shouldn't, the last time he had been in here, he told the person patching him up to fuck off when they asked a similar question. But this nurse's face was so disarming and inviting, and all she was probably trying to do was distract him from the incoming pain and keep him conscious.

"It was... a cost of getting my life back." He grunted as she slowly took the knife out.

"Seems expensive." She idly commented, completely focused on her task.

"It was, but I'm free now. Just gotta lose that stench of violence, right? No more living like a-"

His breath suddenly hitched as the blade brushed over a particularly sensitive spot. His hand rushed to hers and she saw the sudden terror in his eyes as sweat started to form on his brow.

"It's alright." She whispered soothingly, placing her free hand on top of his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You're going to be just fine, I promise."

The level of control this woman had acquired over him in such a relatively short amount of time was rather concerning. The knife was nearly out judging by where her hands were, just a little more. Grimmjow slowly loosened his grip on her hand and clenched his teeth.

"So, you're out for some redemption, eh?" She gave him a small grin.

"Something like that." His breathing was harsh and ragged.

Grimmjow let out a gasp as she fully removed the blade and quickly put pressure on his wound with a cloth. He tried not to think about how much blood he lost in that short span of time.

She spent the next 15-20 minutes making small talk and keeping him tranquil while waiting for the bleeding to stop. She was quite bubbly and lively now that she had warmed up to him, her eyes sparkled as she recounted tales of her own childhood injuries and how clumsy she used to be.

Grimmjow's hair was damp with sweat and laid flat on his forehead. He tried to regulate his breathing and calm his body. In the grand scheme of things, this was far from the worst incident he had in a hospital, anything was better than being hooked up to another fucking catheter.

Redemption.

That was a noble way to put it. Honestly, he had just been trying to go to his crew to prevent this  _exact_  kind of thing from happening in the near future. He was getting older, slower and had lost his appetite for petty crime. He hadn't expected the most positive of reactions, but stabbing him like a scorned housewife? It was definitely time to get out. When he said that he wanted to be cut loose from the gang, they took it a bit literally.

"You always deal with idiots like me, or do you help people who actually deserve it too?" He asked.

"I help anyone who deserves it, Grimmjow." She said earnestly.

"If you say so." He mumbled quietly.

"I actually only started here recently, I've been shadowing a more experienced nurse for the past few weeks trying to learn the ropes. Now I'm here performing minor operations on patients alone."

"One hell of a jump in responsibilities." He drawled.

"You're telling me." She scoffed in agreement.

"Well if I can make a review, I think you're a natural at this." He said sincerely.

"You're sweet, but let's see if you can keep that attitude when I'm stitching you up later." She smirked.

She took off the dressing and started the process of cleaning his wound. Grimmjow turned his head to look at her while she worked, her brows were furrowed in the utmost concentration. He stared back up at the ceiling, a smile spreading across his features.

Her whole demeanour just spoke to how good-natured she was. It had been a long time since Grimmjow had met a truly pure soul, he had become far too accustomed to associating with wicked and unscrupulous lowlifes. If he really was going to try his hand at this redemption thing, it was time for a change in company.

"Hey, I know this isn't exactly the best first impression, but I was wondering if you'd want to hang out sometime? Get a chance to show you that I've turned over a new leaf." He asked modestly.

"I think you're finally going delirious from shock and blood loss." She laughed.

"Maybe, but it'd be remiss of me to not thank you for helping me, and I'm kind of in the market for some better friends right now."

"I'm sorry to break it to you, but I'm not for sale." She asserted firmly, reapplying a fresh dressing.

"Poor choice of words." He conceded.

She looked at him with something akin to pity, which only made him feel like an absolute dickhead. This was one of the downsides in relying on his face to do most of the heavy-lifting for his tepid personality, it didn't really work well if he already had the appearance of someone knocking at death's door.

"Okay, well can I at least get your name? I promise, I don't bite... much." He grinned teasingly.

"How do I know you're telling the truth about going straight?" She asked cautiously.

Grimmjow laughed lowly. "I don't know how to tell you this but I really don't have much of a choice, I have to go straight. I got lucky tonight, the next time this happens that knife could be in my lung or heart-" He suddenly broke out into a heavy cough.

"Speaking of lungs... Are you a smoker?"

"Yes I am." He said matter-of-factly.

"You're really not helping your case here. If you can't quit smoking, what makes you think you can give up the life you're living?"

"You know what, just forget it." He said gruffly. "Thanks for patching me up, nurse, I really appreciate it."

"We're not finished yet Mr. Jaegerjaquez." She chided.

"No? Ms..."

She snickered at his renewed persistence. "Odelschwanck, Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck."

Grimmjow raised an eyebrow. "That's a mouthful and a half."

"Well, my friends call me Nel, but I don't think we're at that stage-"

"Yet." He said with a toothy grin, finishing her sentence. She looked at him curiously, then couldn't help but respond to his cocky smile with one of her own.

There was something wild in his eyes, something that told her to take a chance on him. He didn't seem like a bad guy, a little rough around the edges sure, but not inherently malicious. He certainly had more manners than some of the thugs that walked into this place.

He was quite the curious case, she almost wanted to accept his invitation, just to see if he would keep his word. He clearly had a sturdy body, she wondered if his spirit and resolve were just as strong.

* * *

Walking through the hospital these days, it still amazed Grimmjow how quickly the looks he got changed once he started dating Nelliel. They were so vastly different to his past visits that he might as well have been a whole new person. In a way, he sort of was; well if being less of an asshole counted as a meaningful transformation.

He had to admit though, it was nice to be met with friendly greetings and cheerful remarks instead of cold grimaces and withering stares. As he nodded to a nurse he vaguely recognised, Grimmjow reflected on the time it took to get to this cordial point. Before acceptance came, it was more like the staff looked at him with sheer disbelief. All with the same question on their lips:  _Really, him?_

If he was being honest with himself, they weren't the only ones who were surprised. After she finished stitching him up, Grimmjow was shocked when Nelliel had taken him up on his offer of hanging out. Tapping her number into his phone, she told him to rest up and use his free time to plan a night that would really show her he was serious about this.

He wasn't sure what made her change her mind, but if she was looking for a safe time, that pretty much meant that all of his old favourite hangouts were out of the question. He would never admit the amount of time he spent racking his brain trying to think of an appropriate place to take her, but it definitely took longer than it should have.

He felt sharp as he left to meet her at the spot he settled on and texted her; some swanky, family-run Italian place that he had a fondness for, when he was in a cultivated mood. She greeted him with the most gorgeous smile and looked even more amazing outside of her work clothes.

He wasn't nervous per se, but it had been a while since he had been out on a traditional date. The lack of attachment from inconsequential one-night stands was enough to keep him satisfied for a time, but the empty feeling that came with sneaking out or waking up in a vacant bed was also something he wanted to leave in the past.

Nelliel was a different prospect altogether. She could go from elegant and witty, to silly and hyper at a moment's notice. Her unpredictability was attractive in a spontaneous sort of way; he couldn't see there ever being a dull moment with her.

As for himself, what he lacked in social graces, he tried to make up for with a sense of humour. He cracked joke after joke in an effort to make her grin or laugh or get any kind of positive emotion out of her. He must have appeared restless and uncomfortable, because after a certain one-liner, she smiled sympathetically, put her hand over his, and told him to relax, just like at the hospital.

After that, he lightened up a little, toned down the jokes and managed to act a bit more like a regular human being. He was in awe at how easily conversation with her flowed, it was a rare person that got him to speak more than a handful of words. Though Grimmjow tried to keep the discussion focused on her and asked plenty of questions to keep it steered in that direction. The less he had to talk about himself, the better.

She told him about how long it had been since she had a night out once she started working at the hospital. Her social life had suffered due to the amount of hours she was on rotation. When she briefly mentioned the amount of patients that came into the emergency room due to crime-related incidents, Grimmjow lowered his gaze and tried to focus on his food. Catching his awkward reaction, Nelliel quickly changed the subject without skipping a beat.

When dinner ended, he walked her home and they let an easy quiet fill the air. Once they stood outside of her building, Grimmjow broke the silence by asking if the night had surpassed her expectations. When she gave him a coy smile, he grinned and boldly moved in to kiss her, however his lips met her cheek instead of her mouth. Nelliel giggled as she rushed up her steps to go inside. Grimmjow light-heartedly called her a tease, causing her to spin around, blow a kiss and tell him there was always next time.

He eagerly looked forward to it.

The more dates they went on, the more they realised the world of differences between them. Her occasional naivety didn't really gel with his occasional aggression, and they tended to disagree more often than not, and she whined in the most high-pitched shrill when she was annoyed with him, and he still couldn't seem to shake his smoking habit.

And yet, not a single one of these differences ever deterred either of them, or stopped them from having the best of times.

In just a couple of weeks, Grimmjow was the most content he had been in a long time. Nel was the stability that his life had always lacked, a breath of fresh air in an ocean of shit. Whenever his diamond in the rough beamed at him, he couldn't stop that tight feeling in his gut which was solely reserved for her.

She had also been a great reminder about the fact that he was currently unemployed and that if he was going to continue living as a law-abiding citizen, he was going to need a job. Well technically, he had been unemployed for the past eight years, but thankfully the old expression of crime not paying wasn't entirely true. He had enough ill-gotten gains saved up to last him a couple of months, however he was still going to need a new source of legitimate income.

Not having much work experience aside from some odd tasks he did as a kid, meant that he found himself applying for and working menial, low-level occupations in order to pay his bills. But Nel never seemed to care or judge him when he told her, she seemed more proud of the fact that he was trying.

Grimmjow hadn't met anyone who liked spending time with him, simply to be with him; not to gain anything or have ulterior motives on how to use him for their benefit. It was a rather foreign concept to him.

The more time they spent together, the deeper emotions grew and soon they were so inseparable that he had moved into her apartment. She lived on a nicer side of town and while he may have smoothed out any bad blood over the stabbing, he still didn't want her anywhere near his old stomping grounds.

He found himself revealing more about himself than he intended, then more than he should have, then more and more until she knew just about everything there was to know about Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. Each sordid secret revealed was like a weight off his shoulders, and with the complete knowledge of sins he planned on taking to the grave out in the open, he fully expected Nel to tell him to get out.

Grimmjow had made his peace with leaving her, satisfied that he had received some kind of penance along with one beautiful year. Instead, Nel took him by surprise when, with tears in her eyes, she threw her arms around his neck and thanked him for telling her. While hugging her back, he couldn't help but feel that those tears would be better spent on people who actually deserved them.

With the literal and metaphorical skeletons in his closet laid to rest, Nel agreed with him to leave them there, for both of their sakes. He was prepared for her to look at him with a mixture of fear and disgust from then on, yet she just kept on surprising him.

She had already seen the faded marks that decorated his frame, and it wasn't hard to guess that he didn't get skin like leather by sitting behind a desk all day. He remembered the first time that they slept together and she regarded his form with admiration, then proceeded to add her own scratches on top of his scars.

But once the horrors of what he had endured sank in, her view of his body turned from attraction to empathy. She pressed light kisses over his worst wounds, gently ran her hands over his muscled back and softly caressed his face when they looked into each other's eyes. Affection came as natural to her as breathing, but to someone like him whose most skin contact had been through a fist or elbow, every one of her touches lingered with him.

Now that she knew so much about him, Grimmjow wanted to learn every minute detail about her life. Hearing her talk about her past was one of his favourite ways to unwind. She would often get so engrossed in the tales she was telling him that she ignored the peaceful smile on his face as he played with her hair.

He couldn't remember how the conversation came about, but an anecdote that Nel told him about how she always wanted to be a doctor made him curious.

_"So why didn't you?"_

She rambled some half-hearted excuse about financial circumstances preventing her from following that particular goal. It sat with him for a while, then really started to eat at him. How did he get to clean his hands of his past and move on with his life, when his better half wasn't even where she wanted to be with hers?

She laughed him off when he first brought it up, brushed him off when he continued to, and finally got annoyed when he persisted.

_"And how are we going to afford that, huh?"_

That was her fatal mistake. She never told him that she didn't still want it, or that she had moved on. She just didn't see how it was possible. Nel got him to change for the better, it only felt right that he be supportive in getting her to reach for her dream.

He hadn't put this much thought into something since his first score, and this beat sitting outside and patiently casing a travel agents any day of the week.

Because he didn't want anyone to recognise something about him during the stick-up, he never set foot inside the place before he robbed them. He was sure he had done his due diligence on staff, security, the quietest time to strike, etc. Yet even with all of his intricate planning, Grimmjow had somehow failed to do even the most basic fact-checking.

Which he discovered in the worst possible way when, during the robbery, he was kindly informed that this particular travel agents didn't hold any foreign currency. Despite the fury he felt at the joke being on him, he still managed to keep a cool head, not harm a single person and walk away with a pitiful take, compliments of the poor bastards that were there to just plan a holiday.

It wasn't one of his finest hours.

Grimmjow presented his reasoning to Nel like he was running for office and did his best to answer every concern or roadblock she would bring up. When he was finished speaking, she didn't say a thing but merely retreated into their bedroom. He remembered the defeated feeling as he let his shoulders slump and went to climb into bed beside her, too tired to say anything else. He could boost her confidence and encourage her all he wanted, but at the end of the day, he couldn't force her.

_"If we're going to do this..."_

He was just about to nod off when her murmured tone had the grin on his face going from ear-to-ear.

The first few weeks went by smoothly enough. Excitement for the future fueled them and kept them energised throughout the day, and seeing each other in the evenings, having someone to come home to, it was everything.

But the reality of the four years required for Nel to get her PhD slowly crept into their consciousness and gradually wore them down. Four years of hard work, heated arguments and hurtful remarks that they both regretted. Grimmjow tried to remain as upbeat and optimistic as he could for Nel's sake, but even he had his limits.

Nel's insults were a regular occurrence and mostly jokes made out of frustration at events out of their control. He forced himself to bite his tongue on every occasion he could, but sometimes an unwanted remark still slipped out.

His barbs were sharper, colder and cut deeper. He hated the face Nel would make when she was truly taken aback by one of his jibes, it was a look of shock and betrayal. She would never use his past or something that personal against him, which only made him feel like even more of a scumbag when he did it to her.

However, hurt and anger were temporary, and the urge to reconcile would always overwhelm their petty annoyances with each other. Soft-spoken apologies, warm embraces, passionate lovemaking and lazy cuddling were always routine after they fought.

He gave her massages and head on her hardest days. She made his favourite pasta sauce and gave him head on his hardest days.

They drifted away from their friends, well, Nel's friends, and became even more enveloped in themselves. They didn't go out as much as they used to when they first started dating but it didn't seem to bother either of them. Curling up on the couch together to watch some TV with a couple of beers should not have been as rewarding as it was.

She continued to work part-time in the hospital, but had to quit when the strain of balancing work and study became too much. He was happy with that. According to Nel, things hadn't improved much; there were more and more cases of staff being stretched thin and forced to work on their own, similar to the night they first met. Removing that type of stress from her life was a positive in his book, even with the loss of her paycheck.

Money was always a touchy subject with them. Grimmjow had been good with living on scraps and being forced to budget for most of his life; he knew what he could and couldn't afford and never tried to live beyond his means. Nel on the other hand, took a bit more of a liberal approach to her funds. She was far from being frivolous, but had always been so financially secure that a little window shopping wasn't detrimental to her.

He wanted to lie to her when he got let go from the first stable-paying job he had, then almost wanted to cry when he came home and saw her asleep with her nose in one of her textbooks. It was she who started crying instead after he told her, vowing to drop out of university and only sticking with it after much convincing from him.

That last year was a real test to their relationship; their tempers were shorter, money was tighter and they fought more frequently. Their words had more venom and on top of that, they were slower to make up.

But despite those hurdles, they still made it to the other side together and their relationship was stronger from it. Four years of hardships, arguments and solidarity later, the fruit of their labour was finally on display:

_'Dr. Odelschwanck'_

He had to admit, he was a little disappointed that they spelt her name correct on the door to her new office first try, it took him about three months to get it right.

He stepped inside and scoffed at the amount of boxes strewn about the place, it was like Nel planned to move into her office; which given the amount of time she spent trying to get it, wasn't that unreasonable. He watched as she shuffled about and tried to unpack them all. His gaze was drawn to the first thing she pulled out, a picture from the day she graduated.

Nel had been full of smiles for that entire day as she conversed with her fellow graduates while Grimmjow silently wondered why their stupid looking robes were so expensive. Her parents had come to the city to support their daughter, which meant he had to endure her father's seething stares and thinly-veiled insults.

When it came to getting their photo taken, Grimmjow stood beside Nel in a fancy suit and with a proud expression on his face. He wasn't normally one for a shirt and tie, but on this occasion, it was warranted. He also came around to the idea pretty quickly when he got his ego boosted from Nel's mother commenting on how well he cleaned up, much to her husband's chagrin.

Grimmjow cleared his throat, causing Nel to set the frame down and spin around.

"I think that's the last one." He said, adding the box he had been carrying onto the pile.

"Thanks. So, what do you think?" She beamed, motioning to the size of the room.

"I think you deserve it." He said, looking at her intently.

"I could never have done this without you, Grimmjow."

"Yeah, you could've. You just wouldn't."

"Maybe so, but I still think it'd be remiss of me to not thank you for helping me through it." She grinned.

Grimmjow chuckled, planted himself on top her desk and finally took in their surroundings. Nel sat down beside him, entwined their fingers and rested her head on his shoulder.

"It's a nice office, I think you did more than enough work in your nursing days to earn it. So I'm not surprised that they gave it to you as soon as you came back with your doctorate."

"That makes one of us. I was expecting to start all over again at the bottom of the corporate ladder and be forced to climb my way up."

"You? Nah, you're far too talented and valuable to this place, it would have been foolish on their part. Just think of all the people they get to make better by having you here."

"I'm sure you're not biased at all when it comes to that." She laughed.

"Oh, I'm always biased when it comes to you." He proclaimed in that smooth tone which made her insides flutter.

He turned to her, brought her chin up and pressed his mouth to hers. His tongue languidly explored her mouth until Nel parted from the kiss, nipped at his lower lip and leaned back onto the table.

"I know they don't have unlimited resources, but I really hope that they didn't cut costs when it comes to this desk." He said while grinning at her sprawled form and throwing off his hoodie.

"Grimmjow, no!" She started to protest, but found herself laughing when he placed kisses on her neck and made no physical objections when his hand slid down to unbutton her trousers.

By this point, they must have had sex on every available surface in their apartment, so it only made sense that they inaugurate her new office in a similar fashion.

* * *

With things having been going so well in their lives, it was easy to forget that for some, the hospital could be the place where they received the most devastating news of their lives. Due to his numerous visits, Grimmjow had the unfortunate experience of seeing nurses and doctors relay that crushing information to the families and friends of the person who didn't make it.

Waiting in the emergency room and looking over to see the slow realisation sink in was exactly the kind of sight that reinforced Grimmjow's disdain for the hospital. Watching that irreparable damage register on their faces stuck with him a lot longer than any of the horrific injuries that passed through those doors.

Now that Nel was back working there, his instincts told him that it was only a matter of time before that misery would inevitably spill over into their lives. He didn't voice these thoughts to her because, like it or not, that place helped put food on their table and gave them the kind of life that he could only ever dream of leading.

Keeping his mouth shut did little to keep his superstitions at bay though, and he was just silently anticipating the day where it was his turn to receive that news. So when Nel didn't come home at the usual time one night, his paranoid brain conjured up every sadistic scenario it had been storing up for the past year.

He brushed it to the side and attempted to distract himself by making dinner and getting ready for his own job. Her working late wasn't uncommon, her not calling or texting him was enough to get him chain-smoking. He finally called the hospital asking for her and let out a quiet sigh of relief when they told him she was still there.

Getting over there as fast as he could, he also called Barragan to let him know he wasn't going to be there tonight. His boss was tough but understanding, and had been generous enough to give him a job when he had no reason to.

When Grimmjow had been let go from his occupation during Nel's studies, the manager who fired him suggested that he look into the security sector for employment, as it may suit him a bit better than stacking shelves with groceries.

Grimmjow considered it. Wouldn't be the most glamorous of work, but he knew how to fight and even though domestic life may have softened him up, he still looked intimidating enough not to be messed with.

He sprung around from place to place until he eventually settled on bouncing full time, then tried to get his foot in the door of this high-end club. The owner was an old guy that ran a chain of venues like this one, and who Grimmjow took an immediate liking to. He seemed like the kind of man that expected hard work but rewarded you for it accordingly, which was just as well because most of the salaries Grimmjow had been offered while scouting around were piss.

Barragan would tell stories about the golden days while merrily puffing on a cigar, and it always amused Grimmjow how smoke would erupt from him like a chimney if you made him laugh hard enough. Tales from when cocaine was at the height of its popularity, celebrities that would party in his clubs and Barragan's main rival who constantly tried to take over his nightlife empire, all painted a vivid and glitzy picture of an otherwise seedy business.

The club that Grimmjow would be working at was an upper-class joint on the nice side of town, not the type of place where he'd be constantly breaking up fights, making enemies of gang members and have to worry about getting stabbed again.

Most nights it was more boring than anything else but occasionally he got to have a little fun when throwing some drunken asshole out, confiscating drugs from an idiot who didn't have the common courtesy to do them in a bathroom stall like everyone else, or stop a patron who was getting a bit too handsy with a girl who wasn't nearly as enthusiastic about them as they thought she was.

Still, discipline and vigilance were more important than being strong and scary as Barragan had told him during his first night. Knowing how to identify a problem and quickly thinking of a way to defuse it was far more valuable than jumping in head-first. Because of this, Grimmjow had become a master at turning the other cheek. If some of the drunks knew the man he used to be, they might reconsider trying to angrily pick a fight with him for doing his job.

One memorable night had been when Nel showed up unannounced with a couple of her friends from college. Grimmjow was scheduled to be on the door all night but managed to convince one of his peers inside to swap with him in exchange for a favour.

Nel knew exactly what she was doing as she watched him surveying the room but keeping his gaze focused on her longer than anywhere else. She did shots, conversed and laughed intently with one friend in particular before taking her by the hand and guiding her to the dance-floor. Grimmjow didn't know the girl in question, but he could see exactly what kind of mood Nel had turned up in.

Once a tease, always a tease.

Grimmjow had discovered Nel's attraction to the fairer sex when he let his eyes wander over an attractive waitress during one of their first dates. He nearly spit out his water when Nel nonchalantly said aloud exactly what he had been thinking about their server's chest, and struggled to keep a straight face whenever she would bring their food over. All the while Nel would just stare at him with the most mischievous smirk he had ever seen.

It certainly made for an exciting new topic of conversation that Grimmjow never expected to have with any of his girlfriends.

So her making a show of dancing seductively with her female friend didn't faze him; to get a reaction out of him was precisely what she wanted. Honestly, all he was thinking about while watching the girl slow grind against Nel, was whether or not he had a chance of getting that threesome he had casually mentioned in a 'joking-but-not-joking' sort of way.

Once an asshole, always an asshole in his case.

Grimmjow merely rolled his eyes at her when he next turned around to see Nel sticking her tongue out at him, while her friend was working on leaving hickeys on her neck. He left them to their hazy, drunken lust until the lights came on and the crowd shuffled towards the exit.

Nel knew he stayed behind after the club closed to take count of stock, clean up some of the mess and get some words of wisdom from Barragan if he was there. On her way out she looked across the club at him longingly, which could have been because she wanted him to come with her, or to ask for his consent.

He gave her all the encouragement she needed by sliding his tongue between his first two fingers, causing her to burst out laughing. Her expression then turned serious when she mouthed something that could have been  _'I love you'_ , before disappearing into the crowd and out of the club.

The next morning, he was having a smoke outside their building and contemplating his double standards about who he was cool with Nel sleeping with, when a taxi pulled up and his bisexual partner climbed out looking very hungover and smelling of pussy.

 _"Good night?"_ He had asked cheerfully.

Nel kissed him on the cheek as she passed by, then proceeded to spend the rest of the day under the covers in bed, until the scent of food managed to lure her out.

Situations like those that made him realise exactly why he liked working at the club so much. People went there to have a good time, to live life and get rid of all the stress they had accrued during the week. It was that contrast between his place of employment and Nel's that made him grimace everytime he had to set foot inside a hospital, today especially.

"She's still in her office." The receptionist informed him in that same monotone voice. Even after all these years, she was still as jaded as the first night he met her.

Grimmjow nodded his thanks and made his way down the hall, bracing himself for the worst. Quietly opening the door and stepping inside, his heart sank as he took in the scene. Nel sat at her desk with her head in her hands, silent aside from some light crying that pained him to hear.

Approaching her slowly, he spotted her engagement ring lying on the corner of the table. It was an elegant design, carefully picked to be exquisite without looking too flashy. Anyone who knew him would have been surprised at the thought he put into such a tasteful piece of jewellery, which made sense, because  _he_  didn't put any thought in.

They had been on holidays at some sunny resort a couple of months after Nel had started into her job. They both needed to get away from the daily grind for a while and just spend time together in some different surroundings. Place was packed with tourists like them, all looking to rest in the sunshine and relax by the water. In her white bikini, Nel soaked up attention like she soaked up sun rays.

Grimmjow was envious of her restraint when it came to food. While he pigged out at the buffet, she helped herself to fresh fruits and fish which had only been caught earlier that morning.

Grimmjow kept himself entertained during the days by playing pool with some of the locals. It was one of his oldest hustles, and used to be quite lucrative for him, until one day a sore loser swung a cue at him and put an end to his little moneymaking racket.

Here though, he was just a dumb tourist who had wandered into a local dive bar and would probably be an easy mark to win some bets off of. The looks on his opponents defeated faces were almost as good as the silk shirts from the local market that he spent his winnings on.

Grimmjow drove Nel crazy by continuously commenting on the staff and customer service of all the restaurants they went to. While she was delighted that he had found a job he seemed to enjoy, him applying his occupational expertise into  _every_  venue they went to was enough to make her want to strangle him. She wondered how he'd like it if she decided to diagnose every potential sick person they came across in laborious detail.

They passed by a tobacco store while they were out for a stroll, which gave Grimmjow the bright idea to get Barragan a little souvenir, as well as copping a cigar for himself.

Most nights, the two of them sat out under the stars on the balcony of their room, just talking and drinking until their conversations devolved into little more than giddy ramblings, drunken kisses and sweaty sex.

On their last night at the resort, Grimmjow finally treated himself and cut his cigar. Putting his lighter away, he straightened the collar on his new salmon-coloured shirt, blew a thick cloud of smoke into the air and smiled. He could live with this; new clothes, warm weather and great food away from the concrete jungle, and getting to experience it all with the woman he loved.

When she stepped out onto the balcony to join him, Grimmjow raised an eyebrow at her sheepish expression, she looked like a child who had just been caught stealing out of the cookie jar.

He didn't even get a chance to ask what was wrong before she had gotten down on one knee. While he was grateful for where her head was at, he wasn't sure this was the ideal location for a-

Any dirty thoughts went out the window as soon as she pulled out a small, navy, velvet engagement ring box and opened it to reveal a perfectly crafted engagement band.

He was speechless. Like a deer in headlights, his body went stiff and he couldn't even respond to the touching proposal she was making. He dropped his cigar and immediately came back to his senses when some embers ricocheted off the end of it. Stomping the tiny flames out, he then captured Nel's lips with his own before she had a chance to make a smart remark about his stunned reaction.

However, one smoky, deep kiss wouldn't stop her that easily, and while the pun she cracked about her proposal  _"causing sparks to fly"_ made him strongly consider whether or not he wanted to spend the rest of his life with this woman, he still decided to say yes. She must have been confident in his answer, because while she was the one who proposed to him, she went ahead and got a matching ring for herself.

Fast forward to eight months later and that same ring looked out of place in such a melancholy setting.

"Nel." Grimmjow said softly.

She looked up at him with watery and bloodshot eyes, her beautiful facial features creased in anguish. Seeing his concerned expression caused fresh tears to slowly roll down them, which Grimmjow instinctively moved to wipe away.

"What happened?" He whispered, tenderly running his thumb along her cheek.

"I tried my best..." She started hoarsely, until her voice failed her and her lower lip quivered.

Grimmjow pulled her into his arms and held onto her as tightly as he could while she buried her face into his shoulder. He rubbed her lower back while she sobbed against him; her optimistic nature made it hurt all the more when she was this upset. He wanted to whisper the magic words that would instantly make her feel better, but his mind offered nothing that would bring her solace.

If he couldn't comfort her verbally, his next best plan was to just hold onto her until she felt better.

Nel cleared her throat and began to compose herself by taking a deep breath before parting from the embrace. Grimmjow guided her to the two chairs in front of her desk and patiently waited for her to collect her thoughts.

"I was doing rounds in the emergency room today, they needed a replacement for a nurse who was out sick and had no one else on the rota who could take over. We both know how bad it can get there, so when I had a few hours free I decided to roll up my sleeves and help out.

"The afternoon started off quiet enough, a couple of cuts and the occasional broken bone, nothing out of the ordinary. Then I hear the siren and a moment later the ambulance crew are rolling in this kid on a stretcher; they couldn't have been more than ten. Their face was badly burnt, I mean I couldn't tell whether they were a boy or a girl. And the smell..."

Nel winced as the odour of burnt flesh lingered in her nostrils.

"Our first step was to get them a respirator so they could breathe properly. We were rushing through the hospital while getting information quickly fed to us: Electrical fire, third degree burns, inhaled a lot of smoke...

"While I was fitting the respirator over their nose and mouth, looking at their skin peeling, their face was unrecognisable, and the smell- it was so bad, Grimmjow. One of the nurses saw my reaction and offered to take over, but my stubbornness and pride wouldn't allow me to let someone else take charge.

"I worked quickly to try and stop any infection, septic shock is lethal in situations like this. I was so focused on trying to treat the burns that everything else was just drowned out into the background. That same nurse had to grab me by the shoulder to get me to see what was happening. The child's airway was so badly burned that the respirator wasn't working and they were going into shock.

"I couldn't do a thing as I watched their body just shut down in front of me. That boy was nine years old and was the first patient I've ever lost.

"Now I just can't stop thinking about the ten things I could have done differently. It was stupid, I hadn't worked in those conditions for three years, and all of a sudden I think I can just waltz back in and fix everything."

Grimmjow gently grasped her trembling hands and placed a loving kiss on them.

"With these hands, you saved me and countless others effortlessly. Trying to offer your expertise wasn't stupid at all, I'm sure they really appreciated it in a situation like that. With as quickly as you worked, it sounds like the kid was already too far gone regardless."

Nel shook her head. "His parents thanked me for everything I did when I told them. Thanked me!"

"What were they supposed to do?" He asked softly. "Do you honestly think blaming you would make them feel better? It wouldn't, neither will blaming yourself."

"How can I possibly go back after this? I can't handle being responsible for another dead child." She whimpered.

Grimmjow exhaled and scratched his cheek. He stood up and moved to sit on the windowsill, letting some air into the room. He pulled out his pack of cigarettes and his lighter, before turning back to Nel. Seeing her flinch at the small flame of his zippo caused him to immediately put it away and clear his throat.

"You know, when we first started dating, one of my biggest fears was that I would get dragged back into my criminal ways. This mostly stemmed from a story I heard spread around that mirrored my circumstances- Well not really a story so much as an urban legend.

"While the prison system doesn't have the greatest record on reform, rehabilitation did work on this one particular criminal. Now this guy was a legend in his prime: a gunslingin', drug dealin' cowboy; quick as they come and sharp as a razor. Well, that was when he wasn't being a lazy sack of shit. Got sent to jail for 15 years, then came back on the straight and narrow.

"But time has an unfortunate way of eroding history, and people. When the guy came home, he managed to get himself a little maintenance job, nothing special, just some simple manual labour to provide for his daughter. The route he had to walk to in order to get to the main office passed by a corner where these dope boys were now dealing. He looked at 'em curiously the first day until one of them asked him what the fuck he was looking at. He kept cool, responded politely and moved on, but they had him marked from that point.

"From then on, everytime he walked by, those boys would taunt and mock him. Now, regardless of the guy being fifteen years older, he could still wipe these little shits off the face of the planet with ease. But he didn't, he bit his tongue, swallowed his pride and took the abuse every day. He did this because he cherished his freedom, and knew the consequences that would come if he gave into his anger. He didn't view them as people so much as an obstacle in his way, and he was going to keep avoiding that obstacle until one day, the situation escalated.

"He was walking by, expecting the usual jabbering insults and mindless posturing. Instead, one of them threw a bottle at his feet, glass shards flew and cut his shin. That day, he didn't walk on. He approached all five of them fearlessly. He explained who he was, what he did in his past and then calmly outlined exactly what would happen if they acted hostile towards him one more time. The boys were so shocked that they let him walk away without saying a word.

"The next day his pride brought him to that same corner, knowing exactly what would happen. One of the kids put a gun to his head and the guy just grinned. He swiftly murdered all five of them with that same gun in under ten seconds; hadn't lost a step. And now he's supposedly spending the rest of his life behind bars for manslaughter."

Grimmjow used to recite that tale like it was a campfire story in his own criminal days. It gave him hope more than anything, hope that there was a chance for change if you tried hard enough.

"Why did you tell me all of that?" Nel sniffed.

"Because  _he_  gave up, you can say he gave those boys a fair chance, but he knew exactly what was going to happen. That kid's parents are going through hell right now, but even though they have to bury their child, they still thanked you. You know why? Because they know you gave it your all, just like you do with everyone that comes through those doors. You didn't kill him Nel, you tried to give him life. You can't let this stop you from giving that to hundreds of others."

Nel considered the parallel that Grimmjow had laid out; that story wasn't the first time she had heard of a glass bottle ruining a life. She wiped the last of her tears and looked at him hesitantly.

"When you-"

"Don't. Please don't." He gently pleaded, knowing exactly what dark road she was going down.

She nodded, immediately letting the subject go.

Grimmjow had stripped away every wall he had ever put up and laid himself bare to her all those years ago. Some secrets just weren't worth bringing up, no matter how much you think talking about them may help. It wasn't right for her to compare failing to save a patient, to a scared thirteen year old boy defending himself from the worst the world had to throw at him.

He came back to sit beside her and once again took her hands in his.

"A guy like me Nel, a guy like that, he's not supposed to get a happy ending, it just doesn't happen. You gave me that, you made me better, just like you did countless others. If you really feel like you can't do this anymore, no one would blame you for leaving, just like nobody is blaming you now."

"I'm not leaving." Her voice was finally steady. "I just... can't see anything like that again. I thought about if it was our child on that stretcher..." Nel whispered.

Grimmjow took a sharp intake of air. "Don't do that to yourself."

Nel didn't say anything to that. Instead she sat back and looked like she was about to start crying again, but managed to hold a stiff upper lip. One big sigh and all the tension in her body finally seemed to dissipate.

"You alright now?" Grimmjow asked.

"I don't know if I'm going to be alright for a while, but I'm glad you're here with me through this." She smiled weakly.

"Where else would I be?" He murmured.

"Work?" She asked.

"I called Barragan, he understood."

"Sorry you had to miss work, I know you'd prefer to be literally anywhere else than the hospital."

"I'm not, I had to make sure the future Mrs. Jaegerjaquez was in one piece."

"Oh my God, that sounds absolutely terrible, I am definitely keeping my own name." She muttered adamantly.

"I can live with that." He chuckled lightly, wrapping an arm around her and letting her rest her head on his shoulder before they went home.

* * *

He wasn't sure how it was possible but somehow, even the hospital car park was less depressing than the interior of the building. It might have been just as grey, but it was still infinitely more charming than the endless corridors of misery.

Perhaps his hatred of the hospital was bordering on ridiculous at this point, especially seeing as how now was definitely not the time to bad-mouth it.

Grimmjow took a drag from his cigarette in order to quell the butterflies in his stomach. He couldn't remember the last time he had been both this excited and nervous. At his wedding he had been cool as a light breeze because he was only focused on his beautiful bride, her proposal had come as such a shock that he couldn't even register his excitement for that, and it wasn't like those four years of Nel studying were the most thrilling.

He smiled as his mind brought him back to that first date. He was pretty sure he made a joke about being well travelled, where he asked her how many buses she thought it took him to get there. Nel, bless her heart, tried to humour him with the most painful pity laugh he had ever heard, before his awful jokes became too much and she told him to relax.

He was surprised that she even bothered to answer the phone a few days after his failed comedy routine.

As happy as he was to land that first date, never in his wildest dreams did he see them here. A couple of fun nights and nice memories, sure. A long term relationship with a lot emotional investment? Maybe. Married and about to have a child? She was a nice nurse and sexy as hell, but he couldn't see himself settling down that quickly with the first person who caught his eye.

Then again, he never really saw himself becoming a manager of a club either, so clearly foresight wasn't one of his strong suits.

Barragan had more or less gifted him the keys to the castle a couple of months ago. It came as quite the surprise to Grimmjow to find out that he was being groomed this entire time; turned out that all of those late nights staying behind had paid off with interest. Barragan's gems of knowledge hadn't been purely self-aggrandizing stories from his glory days either. Instead, they served as direction in how best to run the club and what pitfalls to avoid.

He couldn't blame Barragan for finally handing over the reins. The old man wanted to spend his twilight years lying on some balmy beach, not in a crowded club listening to blaring music that he hated. Let someone with a good head on their shoulders like Grimmjow become manager, while he raked in the profits from the other side of the world.

Sure, wearing a suit everyday made Grimmjow want to take a semi-automatic to the temple, but he couldn't deny that the pay benefits helped ease the pain of wanting to hang himself with his own tie. Certainly helped him save for his wedding anyway.

It wasn't a grand or luxurious affair, more of an intimate ceremony with some select guests; by which he meant that Nel selected the guests.

His new in-laws were a good laugh. After the lukewarm response from her father, Grimmjow was delighted to learn that the rest of her family didn't have a stick up their ass and were as batshit crazy and animated as she was.

Also, for some reason Nel insisted on inviting the new ginger doctor that started to work in the hospital. Grimmjow had one friendly chat with the guy while he was picking her up, and all of a sudden Nel made it out as if they were best friends from childhood. Still, Kurosaki was good company for the day when Grimmjow got exhausted of hearing the high-pitched cackling from Nel's cousins.

Everybody opted not to ask where Grimmjow's family was, whether out of respect or embarrassment, he wasn't sure. He did wonder what lie Nel came up with in order to avoid the awkwardness that would come by telling the depressing truth. He wagered that tales of poverty, addiction and deadbeat dads wouldn't make for the most cheerful small talk with his new relatives, much better to talk about his criminal record instead.

Marriage changed little in their relationship aside from their quality of life improving due to their respective career positions, as well as an unexpected increase in their sex drives. He wasn't sure what it was but in the weeks after their wedding, they were just in sync when it came to the bedroom.

However, they soon realised that they would have to pace out their renewed libidos when their excitement nearly got them both killed. Out of all the terror he had experienced in his youth, nothing would ever scare Grimmjow quite like shower sex.

It was during an early morning quickie that they tried to fit in before they both went to work. He had Nel up against the wall when his thrusts caused a bar of soap to fall onto the shower floor. The surface was slippy enough already, and with Nel's long legs wrapped around him and her moans only getting louder, Grimmjow certainly wasn't paying his surroundings any mind.

He knew the second he moved his foot and stood on it, exactly what was about to happen. The scene seemed to play out in slow motion, Grimmjow tripped and was about to enact the most lethal pratfall in history. Nel being the quick-thinking one, grabbed onto the top of the shower door frame and stopped herself from falling with him. Grimmjow ended up hitting his back on the glass and banging his knee against the same wall he had just been banging Nel on.

If she hadn't nimbly reacted, their combined weight would have shattered the shower door, leading to a glassy demise. It would have simultaneously been the most hilarious, yet grisly death scene ever. Despite popular belief, almost dying wasn't quite the thrilling aphrodisiac it was made out to be.

Never again.

Being brought back to the present, Grimmjow felt his boxers grow tighter as the blood rushed south, he tossed his cigarette and pulled out a fresh one.

All he'd had for the past few months were his fantasies. The lack of sex wasn't due to a slow down of desire either, if anything, Nel was even more eager to jump his bones due to her hormones. The same could not be said about him. It wasn't that he stopped finding her attractive as soon as she started showing, far from it. He just... he had this irrational fear that sex would somehow hurt or damage the baby.

Even when Nel laughed in his face and explained to him exactly why that was absurd, despite her reassurances, he still couldn't go through with it. Anytime they were about to get frisky, Grimmjow's thoughts would drift towards their unborn child and immediately kill the mood for him. Nel sulked, and made sure that he made up for the lack of sex with plenty of massages.

If Nel had a habit of acting hyper normally, pregnancy was like that on steroids. Her vivacious attitude was amplified and even the smallest annoyance could set her off on a profanity-filled rant. Then on other days, she just positively glowed like the diamond he always thought she was.

One thing was for certain, it wasn't just Nel's emotions that this pregnancy was affecting.

If someone were to ever pick words to try and describe him, 'overly sensitive' would probably be at the bottom of the list, right after 'plays well with others'. Nel got him to open up and be a bit more introspective, but that still didn't make him the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. Yet, when he saw her on those days where her skin was radiant, her mood was serene and she cradled her stomach, he couldn't help the overwhelming paternal instincts that were starting to emerge.

He did wonder what kind of kid they would have. A boy who was a spitting image of his mother with the exact same eyes? He could see the little bastard having her annoying habit of drooling. But whereas their kid would be a baby and easily excusable, Nel was a fully grown woman who still let saliva leak out of her mouth while she slept and drip onto his chest. Or maybe they'd have a girl; feisty like him and stubborn as hell. He could see the two of them causing all sorts of mischief and being an absolute headache for Nel.

Grimmjow smirked at the idea before his thoughts guided him somewhere much more serious.

He hoped his kid turned out okay, he had fucked up his life at a young enough age. If he could give his child opportunities that he never had, he could consider himself some sort of success. A better man than his father anyway. Yeah, dear old dad wasn't exactly the best role model to take parenting tips from, that would have required him being there for a start. Bastard didn't even bother to show up when his mother overdosed.

Grimmjow hocked up some phlegm and spat it out before sparking a fresh cigarette.

Nel's mom was kind enough, a less lively version of her daughter but still just as compassionate. He was pretty sure her old man hated his guts, not like he could blame him. The one thing Grimmjow did agree with him on was that Nel could have done better. Nevertheless, it did warm his heart whenever Nel and her mother stuck up for him against his father-in-law.

To tell the truth, he had been scared shitless about this whole thing from the second Nel told him exactly why it was that she had been throwing up in the mornings. His mind seemed to offer him every horrible way that this could go wrong, from birth, to a disability, to the child just absolutely despising him.

He was so grateful to Nel for being the voice of reason and hope against his paranoid, pessimistic and hypochondriac worries. He had always maintained that a little pessimism was good for you, it kept you on your toes and prepared you for just about anything. But he'd be damned if he wasn't appreciative for Nel being up in her hospital room now, somehow calmer than him when she was the one about to deliver a baby.

Grimmjow took the last pull of his current cigarette and looked down at the pack.

His last one.

He had been telling Nel for years that he would quit, had tried on multiple occasions. The one thing he discovered from these attempts was that quitting wasn't the hard part, staying off them was. Now though, something had to change.

He looked at his zippo fondly, it was his oldest possession and one of the first things he ever stole as a teenager. He remembered how he had been captivated by the jagged teeth engravings on it and thought it was one of the coolest designs he had ever seen.

He flipped it over to reveal the stylized number 6 that he added himself; a symbol of a forgotten life that his child would never know. Whenever he thought back to his past with the gang or on his own, it was always with disgust and self-loathing.

Redemption.

He wasn't sure he'd earned it, but he was going to keep making sure that he didn't squander it. Lighting the last cigarette of his life, Grimmjow chuckled and tossed his lighter in the bin.

"Here's to a healthy life, kid."

* * *

Despite his wife having worked in a hospital ever since he had known her, Grimmjow had never stayed in one of the rooms for too long himself. He normally wanted to get the hell out as soon as possible, not stay overnight and be constantly woken up to be prodded and have his temperature monitored. He always found it strange how they encouraged rest, yet anytime a patient found themselves finally nodding off in their care, they were immediately forced to wake back up.

Not to mention that being stuck with an outrageous hospital bill that was only going to force him to commit more stupid and dangerous acts, like the very ones that forced him to stay overnight in the first place. He couldn't have been happier to be out of that vicious cycle; Grimmjow might have been the only man walking the planet who was happy for the opportunity to pay his taxes.

He was pretty sure the doctors and nurses echoed his sentiments when it came to the duration of his stay. It only took eight attempts of making passes at nurses for one of them to finally yield some results.

Besides, hospital rooms were all the same anyway: conformed, sanitary and miserable. This one was even more dreary than the one Nel gave birth in. For a start, it was completely silent aside from the faint beeping of a heart rate monitor. It was barer too, no gifts or well wishes for a speedy recovery. With the curtains drawn, the ambience was appropriately macabre.

"Coming over here I thought about everything I wanted to say to you. Actually, I've been contemplating that for the past week, haven't been able to think of much else."

Grimmjow awkwardly fidgeted and rotated the wedding ring on his finger. He wasn't sure where he was going with this, his voice was hoarse and his mind was utterly numb. It was like the only thing that had been going through his head was just white noise on a loop; he couldn't remember the last time he'd slept. After the transmission in his head eventually died down, the only thing he was left with was the lonely and hollow silence, that and the faint beeping of a heart rate monitor.

"Everything's been a little hazy. I can just remember getting that call, then it was like I was just floating through the days, you know? Just going through the motions.

"All my life I tried to plan for shit, to keep one step ahead of the curve. If things go left, hey, it's nothing you weren't prepared for; you just brush it off and keep moving. That planning used to be pretty simple when it was just me, but when you're trying to build a life with the person you love, you keep adding more and more into the equation. Eventually it becomes too much; you learn that you can't take every variable into account, so you just let things play out. You start to appreciate the present for once because you're not trying to think ten steps ahead anymore.

"It took me far too long to realise this. To just... slow the fuck down and smell the roses for a minute, to admire everything we did build for ourselves. I can't speak for her but, I always felt like we made each other better people, pushing ourselves to pursue our ambitions. Looking back to where we are now, all that material shit that we acquired along the way seems so irrelevant. That line of thinking almost seems blasphemous when I remember some of those cold, hungry nights. It just makes it all the more ironic that after getting everything I could've wanted out of life, the only thing I've really got now, is you."

His name wasn't important. He looked so unremarkable, like the type of person you'd walk by on the street and not even think twice about.

"Given what happened, getting in here was far easier than it should have been, I thought they'd want to keep me as far away from you as possible. This fucking hospital, it's been like a curse to me. Shit, it's where I met my mom for as brief a time as that was." Grimmjow chuckled morbidly.

"They tell me you were over the limit. The alcohol in your blood was several levels higher than it was supposed to be for someone driving. But did that bother you, of course not. Why give a shit about anything but yourself? I guess I can relate on a certain level, self-interest and all that. Maybe that's what you were missing, someone to care for other than yourself. Now that, I can definitely identify with." He said softly.

"My wife and kid, they were the best things to ever happen to me. You see, they were good, they were so good and would only ever brighten any room they walked into. My daughter, she wanted to be a dentist. A dentist. I mean, what kind of kid wants to be a dentist at that age? She'd always say to me  _'Daddy, you have the best smile ever'_  and then I'd give her this little grin, you know show her my canines, and she'd just clap and laugh like it was the greatest thing she'd ever seen.

"And Nel?" Grimmjow paused and instantly stopped twisting his ring. "I can't really put into words what woman did for me. I came into this hospital all those years ago, completely lost with nothing to show but a shattered life and a knife in my gut. She helped me build one, one with her, one with our little girl..." He choked.

"I got that call, and my fucking world imploded. As a father, you're always striving to protect your family, to make sure that they're safe and sound. The person I am, with my history, I should've- I should've ruined them, corrupted them, something. But I didn't, they somehow pulled off a miracle and turned me into somebody worth a damn."

Tears ran down his eyes and he rolled his head back, before burying his face in his hands. He'd been holding it in for as long as he could, the shock of it all had numbed him. It didn't even feel real until he saw it with his own eyes, then it all came crashing down on him at once.

"They let me look at their bodies, they told me not to, but I needed... I needed to see exactly what you did to me. I got there and... all I could manage was Nel's. That was enough, that was more than enough for me." He sniffed.

He grimaced as he remembered the moment the coroner pulled back the sheet and he just stared at his deceased wife. He couldn't even recognise her. He stumbled out of the room as he immediately began to feel nauseous, managing to dash to the nearest bathroom to puke his guts up and cry his eyes out.

"She didn't die immediately either, Nel did because she was driving but on the passenger side, my baby girl didn't go immediately. She was scared and alone, looking at her mother while just trying to breathe through all the blood in her lungs. Could you imagine that, you look to the one person who can protect and save you in that moment. You look to them, and all you see is..." His voice trailed off as that image of Nel flashed before his eyes yet again.

Grimmjow exhaled slowly, wiped the tears and tried to return his face to its impassive expression. The worst thing right now wasn't so much the pain of losing them, it was the unknown. He felt lost and without purpose, unsure of what to do with himself.

He honestly couldn't think of a reason to get out of bed for the past few days, Nel's lingering scent on her pillow was a lot more desirable than confronting the real world. Getting dressed and seeing her clothes neatly folded next to his, never to be worn by her again was enough to bring him to his knees.

He dragged himself through all the formalities with gritted teeth. It's not that he wasn't ungrateful for the sympathy, but after the twentieth time of hearing  _'sorry for your loss'_ , it just felt redundant. However, there were still those whose consolation meant more to him than he could ever adequately express.

Barragan came back from his island retirement to express his condolences. His mentor looked elderly and frail, and he told Grimmjow about how his doctor had unsuccessfully tried to get him to give up the cigars. Grimmjow enjoyed catching up with his old boss, telling stories about how the club had advanced helped him briefly get his mind off things, he just wished that their reunion had been under better circumstances.

Kurosaki tried to get him out of the house, and while Grimmjow knew he meant well, fresh air and exercise was the last thing he wanted. Grimmjow and Nel were delighted with Ichigo's company at their wedding and they all remained good friends in the years since. He made for an excellent babysitter whenever him and Nel wanted a night away, especially as their daughter couldn't get enough of  _'Uncle Ichi'_.

His devastated reaction to the news was just another aspect of this whole tragic affair that Grimmjow would have to carry with him.

The one person who caught him off guard through his whole thing was Nel's dad. He was old, but Grimmjow still expected him to arrive full of hatred and rage towards him. For not being there, for not being the one driving, he'd find something to blame him for.

Instead the old man threw his arms around him and stammered his apologies out. In a way, it felt infinitely worse; to know that the only person who knew what he was going through, who knew what it was like to lose a daughter, was a man who had disliked him ever since he had known him, and only embraced him when their shared pain made him put his disdain aside.

"All of that, and here you are. My questionable future aside, I think one of the worst parts of all this, is that you can't even hear any of the shit you did!" Grimmjow growled.

The heart rate monitor sounded on, in sync with the steady rise and fall of his chest as his body slumbered. It wasn't fair how someone like this got to effortlessly rip his life apart and not face the consequences.

"How the fuck are you even still unconscious? You've hardly got a scratch on you, no breathing tube, nothing. They tell me you've had no visitors, seems fitting. Honestly, given what you did, even if I did know you, I don't think I'd be in a rush to see you either."

Grimmjow leaned forward in his chair and lowered his voice.

"Me and you, I feel like we've got some sort of understanding now and since we're having this little heart-to-heart, let me tell you a little about me. I've done a lot of shitty things in my life that I'm not proud of. I've hurt people, robbed them, cheated and hustled, lied and stolen. I've split lips, blackened eyes, broken bones, pierced flesh with both blades and bullets. Yet, with all the suffering I've caused, I have still only ever killed one other person before." Grimmjow admitted.

"I was 13 and homeless, life in an orphanage just wasn't for me. What's the expression,  _'don't cut off your nose to spite your face'_? Well a couple of freezing, hungry nights made the beatings and bullying not seem so bad. But stubbornness was one hell of a motivator and I made a vow that I would sooner die on my own than give those pricks the satisfaction of seeing me crawl back. I slept beside some bins, for both shelter and to scavenge whatever leftovers people threw out.

"So there I was, hunched next to some garbage, shivering, starving, smelling like shit and missing my mom more than anything else in the world. Just as I was about to embrace either sleep or hypothermia, either would have been welcome, this lone figure walks down the alley. You kind of remind me of him, now that I think about it; nondescript, plain. Only remarkable thing about him was that he had the shiniest watch I had ever seen.

"This piece of shit, he didn't say a word, just looked me up and down with those fucking golden eyes; appraising me, like I was a piece of meat. That's when I realised... I guess he figured no one would give a shit about some street urchin gone missing. I screamed as he tried to grab and pull me away, I scratched, bit and punched him to no avail. My arms were flailing, struggling to find anything that would help until I cut my finger on something. Reaching around while still trying to fend this guy off, I realised it was the outline of a broken glass bottle.

"Without thinking, I just picked it up and ran the jagged edge across his throat. As I watched the life drain from his eyes, I felt nothing, absolutely nothing. I just stood there listening to the gurgling sounds until he collapsed and lay dead at my feet.

"After that, my first instinct wasn't to cry, it wasn't to call for help or wallow in horror. All I did was take that watch off his wrist, pick up the broken bottle and run. I ran so fast, holding onto the bottle and feeling the warm blood drip onto my hands until I tossed it in the river. I cleaned myself up as best as I could and tried to find somewhere to sell the watch. With the money I got from it, I ate for a week. My first taste of crime." He said with a small grin.

"Nel knew about that, knew who I was- what I was, and she loved me anyway, said I was defending myself, shit I don't know. I don't think I've ever hated myself as much as that night where I told her every foul deed I've ever committed. Just remembering the tears and how tightly she held me, as though I had been on the receiving side of every atrocity I carried out. What the fuck did I ever do to deserve her?" Grimmjow uttered quietly.

"I once told her that a guy like me doesn't get a happy ending, guess I was right. Everyday with her was like a dream that I was terrified I'd wake up from. Now I'm here and disillusioned and... the reality is that all I've got left are those dreams. Well, that and you." Grimmjow said darkly, standing up.

"I also told her that I never hurt anyone who didn't deserve it. I'm going to stand by that, for her. But you, my friend, you most certainly have this coming to you. If not me, then either the drink will kill you, or you'll just wreck someone else's world. I'm not gonna let that happen, you ruined my life asshole, you don't get to spent the rest of yours dreaming." He said gruffly, closing the door to the room.

Grimmjow unplugged the heart rate monitor, grabbed the extra pillow from under his sleeping victim's head and pressed it against his face. He wanted the bastard to struggle, to fight back, to do something. But he didn't, and after three to four minutes of holding the pillow over his face, Grimmjow slid the pillow into its original position and turned the heart rate monitor back on which immediately started wailing.

He may have gotten hurt more times than he could remember, but if there was one thing he had always been good at, it was not getting caught. Taking that watch may have gotten him some money, but the lessons it taught him were far more valuable than that.

He didn't look at anyone as he mechanically marched out of the building, ignoring the droning flatline and frantic rush of doctors behind him, his thoughts as blurry as his vision. Whatever goodwill this hospital had earned from giving him his wife and child had long worn out.

The hospital was a place for people with hope and a chance of recovery. He had no cause to be there, he was already dead. He certainly felt like it as he drifted through the halls like a ghost. No one noticed him as he walked out and away from the building. Grimmjow turned around to get one last look at the place that had caused him so much and pain, but had also given him the two most precious blessings he had ever received.

Walking to the nearby park, Grimmjow sat down on a bench and pulled out the first pack of cigarettes he'd bought in years. When he tried to light one, the disposable lighter struggled to even spark an ember. After several failed attempts, he took it as a sign and threw it away, before throwing the pack right after it. He ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath.

It was done, and just like that night in the alley, he felt nothing. He poured everything he had into loving his family, and now that they were gone, he was just empty. He thought that putting their killer down would give him some sort of catharsis, or hopefully fill him with something, anything.

There was nothing, no more worries, no more tears, no more planning or pessimism. No more smiles, laughter or joy either.

Grimmjow looked around the park at the autumn leaves falling from the branches. He closed his eyes as the sun briefly emerged from the trees and offered him the first bit of warmth he felt all week. Gradually, other emotions started to return to his vulnerable form as his mind cleared. He finally felt solid again; not whole or fulfilled, but alive and human at least.

His hands were trembling, he was starving and exhausted, but for right now he just wanted to sit in this park that his daughter loved going to.

He took her here when he would be working at night in the club and was free during the day. It was close enough to the hospital that Nel could join them on her lunch break, and they could just spend a summer's afternoon together watching their daughter run around and play.

There was no getting over the death of a loved one, missing his own mother all these years later taught him that. The best he could hope for was to take it a day at a time, learn to cope with it and stop looking to the future. Reflecting on his past was, for once, not a source of shame, but instead gave him strength and pride. As for the present, if there was one thing he knew for certain, it's that his conscience was clear.

As the thick, grey clouds moved in to swallow the remaining sunlight, Grimmjow stood tall against the oncoming storm. Even when the heavy gusts of wind threatened to knock him off balance, he still felt warm all the way home.


End file.
